


Cooking Problems

by KageSora



Category: Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Genre: #letemilsayfuck2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KageSora/pseuds/KageSora
Summary: Emil comes back to camp to find a disaster area, and surprises everybody saying a word nobody thought he knew.





	Cooking Problems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aerypear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerypear/gifts).

> Uh, okay for some reason I forgot to post this here, lol. 
> 
> Anyway this idea was hilarious and I had to do something with it.
> 
> **I, KageSora, have not given my consent** for this work to be displayed or uploaded via a third-party app or website such as "Fanfic Pocket Library". I also **do not authorize nor consent** to the monetization of my work via a third-party making use of tips, subscriptions, or displaying ads. This work is intended to be accessed entirely free-of-charge and with no advertisement via the ArchiveOfOurOwn website, and the AO3 website _only_.

Emil was a good cook. This was simply objective fact.

The rest of the party consisted of passable, pretty solid, and a few downright abysmal cooks–never allow Raine to prepare the meals was common knowledge among them. At least not if you wanted them to be edible.

So as the one who enjoys cooking the most, and is also very good at it, Emil found himself in the position of unofficial cooking instructor. Most of the time, it was actually pretty enjoyable! Several of his “students” were actually interested, Marta especially (even if she had a tendency to get distracted by him existing which caused… Some interesting results). Others less so, and Raine was simply a lost cause–not that Emil would ever tell her that to her face. He valued his hide too much to risk her wrath.

Once in a while, there were some problems–somebody dropped something into the fire, or knocked something over, minor issues that could easily be handled.

Tonight, however, was not one of those nights.

Emil had come back to the camp after dealing with a problem one of his monsters had come across (the “problem” being his Fenrir finding an abnormally large and shiny beetle that it was afraid of and would not settle down until it was removed, and then proceeded to be spooked when the beetle landed on it’s nose, ran off, and ended up tripping into a large mud puddle and needing a bath). He was rather damp, very tired, and honestly just wanting to sit down for a little while.

He was not expecting to approach camp and note the smell of something burning–which probably meant somebody had knocked something into the fire again… He groaned remembering that several of them had been arguing over who was on dinner duty that night and had a feeling that there had been some distractions…

The fact that getting closer he could hear some kind of commotion was _not_ reassuring. The occasional snatch of yelling things like “get it out of there!” and “put it out!” really just made him reconsider–obviously _something_ was on fire. He heaved a deep sigh and made his way through the trees to the clearing where the others were.

Out of anything he could possibly have expected, about three different places where the party was desperately trying to put out fires, an overturned pot spilling what looked like burned sludge onto the ground, and a spattering of cooking oil–some of which was ignited–was not something he would have expected. Really, nobody should have been _that _dangerous a cook.  
  
Everything seemed to grind to a halt as he entered the camp, and Marta nervously gave him a smile.

“H-hey Emil! We, uh, were hoping to have something m-made before you got back…”

Ah, that might explain it–too many people involved rushing to finish in an unknown time frame. Yep, that would be a recipe for disaster alright. Emil was mentally steeling himself for trying to find a way to salvage something from this mess when a small container that had clearly been hastily set down unevenly finally tipped over into the campfire, spilling oil and causing Marta to shriek as it caught fire suddenly.  
  
Raine was already yelling “No, don’t use–!”  
  
But it was too late, Marta tossed the small container of water she had at it, and it flared up, everybody jumping back to avoid the spattering flames. In the chaos of the next few moments Emil simply stood, trying to figure out exactly where everything went wrong.

Finally, dirt had been heaped over the burning spots to smother them, and everybody sheepishly turned to reassure him that they’d take care of things.

What nobody expected was the deep sigh that Emil heaved, and the quiet–but oddly loud in the silence that filled the small camp–utterance of several words they hadn’t realized he’d known.

“_Fuck_ this bullshit.”


End file.
